What's Myne (Part 1)

Once upon a time, there lived a great man. He was wealthy and powerful and his estate fertile and vast. His lands begun from the banks of a river and continued up stream to form a huge city (his land could be estimated to be almost as big as the present day city of Ibadan).
His was a fair businessman and was good to his tenants. In honor, they called him Baba Igho, meaning father of money.

No other name could best describe him.

Baba Igho had a weakness for praise and beauty this could probably the reason why he continued to get married each time he lost a wife.
He was unfortunate in love.
After he got married, his wife would live only long enough to bare him a child and then fall prey to some mysterious illness, which would take her life.
This happened four times with each woman being more beautiful than the last (Somewhere in Nigeria, persons would conclude that Baba Igho was being “worried from his hometown”).
When the fourth wife died a few weeks after the birth of her child, he decided to retire his ring welding wrist and dedicate the rest of his life to taking care of his children and estate.

The first daughter, he named Kiki her late mother was a princess from a distant land.
Kiki was an egotistical self-serving child.
She never let anyone touch her toys or share in the fruits that her little garden yielded.
The second daughter was Zizi.
Her late mother was rumored to be a marine spirit.
Zizi’s beauty was so enchanting that gazing at her could make a pagan prayerful.
She would spend hours in a day applying beauty products on her skin to make herself more beautiful; she too did not care for anyone but herself.
The third daughter was Mimi.
Her late mother was the child of a warrior.
Mimi was independent and strong to a fault. She fed on power, was unforgiving and was swift to punish anyone who dared to cross her.
The fourth daughter was Baba Igho’s favorite child.
He named her Mine but for peace to reign in the house, he changed her name to Myne.
Myne’s mother was the most unlikely of the four wives. Although she was endowed with grace and beauty, she was the child of a poor healer.
Myne’s modesty and kindness often pushed her to the background and her sisters picked on her.

Years went by and soon Kiki, Zizi, Mimi and Myne became young adults.

Baba Igho decided it was time for his beautiful daughters to get married.

Not one for small measures, he threw a grand party and invited eligible bachelors from around the country. When his guest arrived, he sat on his gold plated throne and proclaimed that his daughters were the fairest in all the country.
He then turned to them and promised that he would give them wonderful husbands based on the love they had for him and asked each of them to come forward one after the other and profess her love.
Kiki spoke first.
Throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed him and said. “Father! I love you to the moon and back! I will give away all my possessions in exchange for your happiness and health!”
This pleased him.
He gave her a quarter of his lands and married her off to a politician who promised to build a wonderful home for her.
It was Zizi’s turn.
Zizi sat on his laps sang a song and afterward she spoke “my dear father, the love I have for you goes farther than the moon! My beauty can not hold a flame to the light of my love for you. I would gladly adorn myself with rags and bear sores on my beautiful skin in exchange for your prosperity and well being.”
This pleased him.
He gave her a quarter of his land alongside cattle and bags of money. He married her off to the most decorated footballer in the country.
When it was Mimi’s turn to speak, she ran to his feet and burst into tears. When she was done crying, she wiped her face and sat at his feet. “Father” she said. “I have traveled around the world and found none like you. You are the strongest, brightest and bravest of all who I have come across. I love you beyond the reaches of the earth, I love you farther than that and I love you even more. For your sake, I would willingly go into captivity and beg in tears each day if this will make you happy.”
This pleased him very much.
He gave her the third quarter of his lands, cattle, more bags of money and married her off to the most talented musician in the country.
When it was Myne’s turn to speak, he sat up straighter and ordered absolute silence because unlike the rest of his daughters, he knew Myne was the one that truly loved him.
He was excited with the anticipation of the praises she would shower on him and wanted everyone to hear.
Myne walked up to the foot of his throne, gave a curtsy and then stood straight and tall.
With a soft but clear voice she looked straight into his eyes and without blinking said.
“ Dear father, I love you as much as my duties require”.
He gaped in shock and stood up outraged.
“What?!”
He screamed.
“You dare to make a fool of me in the presence of my subjects?”
He ordered the guards to throw her out and banished her from the land.
“All these years, she deceived me”.
A bent old woman passing through the land who was a witness to all that had happened, walked up to asked Baba Igho and asked if she could take Myne back home with her to be a nurse to her sickly child.
Handing her a bag of assorted seeds as payment for her troubles, he washed his hands off Myne and went back to his throne to continue the celebrations...





... to be continued

The big R

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle…

The environment is the surroundings in which a person, animal or plant lives in or operates from.
It is the natural world as a whole or in a particular geographical area especially as affected by human activity.
The environment is a fragile little thing that struggles each day with degradation, neglect and abuse in order provide its inhabitants with protection, resource and sustenance.

Friday morning, I turned my face away as this seriously road unworthy trailer, bellowed past. It infused me, my clothes and hair with an unholy black smog.
I coughed, fanned the air around my face with my fingers, blinked away tears in my eyes that formed from the onslaught and went about my business as usual.
Oh! There was the courtesy glance I threw in the direction of Federal Road Safety Corps stationed at the junction.
They were too busy interrogating the apparent owner of a shiny silver jeep as to why the “t” on his vehicle paper was not properly crossed to notice or be affected by the demon on wheels that went past.

Unlike these equation's which I am still waiting on to provide me with money, food and/or a husband, green house gases, ozone depletion and acid rain among others are things I learned about in school, thought were an imaginary monsters but face each day.

Throbbing headaches, high blood pressure, difficulty in breathing and the heat of the sun bearing down on us with a vengeance is something that can easily be traced back to karma.
You do not piss in an ice tray and expect honey flavored ice cubes.

Most of us have come across the 3 R’s at one point in our life or the other but it seems like the only people who have found use for these principles are our “decision makers”.
They Reduce the expectations of the citizens, spend more time and energy on irrelevant agendas and encourage thuggism, thievery and bullying.
They Reuse the same campaign strategies, promising better health, amenities, infrastructures… more hope for the future if only we give them the power and finally, they Recycle their party representatives.
The older? The better!

Waste and how we choose to handle it affects our environment.
Waste is not only the gala wrapper or empty La Casera bottle we throw away after a “quick fix”, it also includes misused energy, resource and intellect.

The environment is hurt each time we use its limited resource to create new items to replace the ones we throw away. Frankly speaking, no matter the angle you look at it from, a landfill is never a pretty site to see so, why promote it?

The most effective way to reduce waste is to not create it!


Think before you trash.
We end up returning to the market to buy items similar to the ones we threw out to facilitate a particular chore.

Reducing is cutting back on the amount of trash we make.
Reusing is finding a new way to use “trash” so we do not have to throw it out.
Recycling is using collecting and processing materials that would otherwise be thrown away as trash and turning them into new products.

• Go with your own bags when shopping and reduce your demand for plastic bags for each item you buy.
• Buy products that can be reused.
• Reduce hazardous waste (furniture polish, cleaning solvent, bleach, non-biodegradable detergent, etc)
• Sell or give away unwanted items.
• Buy products with little packaging, they use less raw material.
• Ensure taps/faucets are tightly closed and not dripping after use.
• Old clothes can be used as cleaning rags.
• Buy products that can be recycled
• Recycle motor products (break fluids, oils and tires)
• Use energy saving bulbs; replacing the cheap regular light bulbs with energy saving bulbs will reduce nitrogen oxide (produces smog), sulphur dioxide (acid rain) and carbon dioxide (global warming). On the long run it would save you money.
• Buy non toxic products whenever possible
• Turn off lights when not in use.
• Use plastic grocery bags as trash bags.
• Buy only what you need.
• Save money, buy in bulk.
• Avoid buying canned items and opt for fresh produce, bottled drinks or items in paper packages.
• Return empty plastic water bottles to their manufacturers.
• Where you can, keep a garden and start a compost bin to use as manure for the plants.
• Rent and/or share items that are used infrequently like party decorations, tools or furniture.

The 3 R’s reduce the amount of waste sent to landfills and incinerators (that is if we really have functional ones in the country), reduces the green house gases emitted, conserves natural resources and sustains the environment for future generations.



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Risky is about the only one in a million population who knew that before he’d live, he was sure to die.
Conceived on a cool Saturday evening at the start of the rainy season , he was born to an age worn mother and a young irresponsible father (who had lost his head).
A one-night stand, that was how the relationship was defined.
Although his mother was past her prime (advanced in age), when she was in the mood and begun her dance, there were few males who could resist her call.
His father was no exception.
Smitten is the word.
You can blame nature, the society, or whatever but no blame can change the fact that of all her offspring, Risky was the only one who made it past infancy.


Risky, Risky, where’d you go?
With wit like a whip
He’s faster than a flash

Risky, Risky, see that streak?
Like a bullet to its target
Risky’s straight to the goal

Much ado about Awin

Last month a picture was sent to me with the question “remember this?” almost immediately, I sent a reply “don’t you?”
The next question was what set me off on my noble quest.

Journey to the days of old.

Armed with the picture, my amazing friends and feeling like a cop, I’d flash the picture (or display it as my profile picture) and ask for the English name.
Most people I asked recounted tales of walking home with a bunch in hand, cracking it open and popping one tiny fruit after the other into their mouths while remembering to spit out the seeds (many of us believed that fruit seeds swallowed accidentally or on purpose would grow in our stomachs, and sprout from the top of our heads. To be on the safe side, even with my B.Sc. and all, you will not find me deliberately swallowing a fruit seed to prove a point) although they each had an idea or more, they could not quite remember the exact name.
I would not say in my early childhood I pretended to be a goat, didn’t know better or my mother did not feed me but I can admit I had a thing for the glossy oval leaves.
I will stuff a forest in my schoolbag when coming back from school, do my chores and finish lessons (if I had any that day) then run to the back of the house sit down in a coded corner and happily munch on my loot.
Imagine my delight when I noticed the tree struggling to grow in the ixora bushes in front of the house!

(Degema street, #sigh#)

Dialium indum

The velvet tamarind is a tall, tropical, fruit-bearing tree.
Rumored to be rich in all them plenty good vitamins, anti oxidants and additive properties, it belongs to the Leguminosae family.

It has small, (most times) orange typically grape-sized edible fruits with velvety black hard but inedible shells.
A native to southern Thailand and Malaysia, the velvet tamarind can also be found in West African countries such as Ghana, Sierra Leone, Senegal, and Nigeria.

Although its close relative Tamarind (Tamarindus indica) (from Arabic: تمر هندی‎, romanized tamar hind meaning "Indian date") which is the only individual in its species exists, Dialium indum is the most common and widespread Dialium in Nigeria.
For people interested in getting their tongues around the fruit, the tree flowers from September to October and fruits from October to January in Nigeria.

Due to its valued hard and compact wood the velvet tamarind is a threatened species.
Sadly, the tree is not commercially grown because it takes 5 to 15/17 years, sometimes even more to come into bearing.
If we are not careful about protecting and propagating the few trees we have left, the sight of said trees might become a memory.

Local names in the country (aside from “Licky –licky and Baba dudu ) include:

Amugen – Benin

Awin – Yoruba

Ukuk – Akwa ibom

Icheku – Igbo and

Tsamiyar kurm – Hausa

From places in the world: it is called Yoyi in Ghana, Keranji in Malaysia, Luk yee in Thailand and some other parts of the South East Asia.




@ Frank and Black Dorian, this one’s for you!

Qui est Risky ?

About two years ago, during the news hour on radio, I heard that commercial bike riders informally referred to as okada riders were banned from having any form of music devices on their 2-wheeled vehicles.
I often wondered how it was possible for a bike to have radio sets and if it was, why the government official’s were being player haters.
This morning, while listening to the headlines and trying to be a little above late for community service, my attention was caught by news that an okada rider was crushed to death by a moving 6,000 pound truck while attempting to flee form the police.

It happened that the okada man who was a tailor by day and a hustler by night took up bike riding as a means of supplementing his income.
The radio reporter went ahead to advise okada men that it was better to be arrested by the police than end up dead.
Midway between pulling my T-shirt over my chest and nodding my head in agreement, I remembered an occasion when while on said okada, I spotted a gaggle of uniformed men and noticed my okada driver was being flagged down.

They were road safety officials.

Seeing a line up of Okada men ahead kneeling and pleading, my driver did not want to wait and see if he would join the chain of uncanny beggars or be given a medal of excellence.

Rather than stop like he was signaled to, he accelerated and thoughtfully dared the official to do his worst.
I was pleading with him to slow down a bit when the outraged officer whipped out his work worn palms, threw all his weight to his right hand and slapped the okada driver as he zoomed past.

The road shook, the bike shook, I shook.
In that instant, I felt (not watched) the high points of my life so far flash before my eyes (in 3D).

Considering the speed at which he was moving, I did not know if I should stop-drop and roll, reach forward and take over control of the bike or start reciting a prayer to my guardian angel.

Luckily for me, I did not have to do either.
The bike-man had quick reflexes, high tolerance for pain and was intelligent to boot.
He was able to regain control of the bike, meander through the busy Thursday morning traffic and get the both of us safely to the other side.
He told me he had to stop; I was too shaken up to respond.

When he parked I took a look at him.

In less than 3 minutes, the right part of his face around the region of his eyes was swollen, tears flowed incessantly down his face and there were beads of sweat lining his forehead.

Thinking back to that incident, I am not sure of how to react anymore.

I have watched with fascination as daredevil okada riders sat on the engines of their motorbikes and raced like rabid madmen up and down the road (I suspect aside from the adrenaline rush going through their veins, something goes on between their intimate anatomy and the bike’s motor).

I have trembled in fear as two men who appeared to be military men, patrolling on an okada, ran their murky fingers over my body and through my pockets. Robbing my cousin and I of not only our belongings but also our trust for uniformed men.

I have chatted with okada riders who recounted incredible stories of how they broke away from bad company and were determined to make a life for themselves.
Once I took a number.
On a whim, I called.
He announced that he was now the proud owner of a tokunbo car!




Risky, Risky, where’d you go?
With wit like a whip
He’s faster than a flash

Risky, Risky, see that streak?
Like a bullet to its target
Risky’s straight to the goal




...coming soon, Risky!

The Tortoise, The Hare and Mr. Nancy

Honestly speaking, with the earth as my witness, I did not set out to be naughty yesterday evening. I was minding my business, steadfastly making my way home when the incident occurred.
Truth be told, I was the victim!
After a long day spent in service to the fatherland and at the same time in repression of thoughts of the extra spicy chicken lounging in the pot of stew in my kitchen, I decided to take the scenic route home.
The journey would have been quiet and uneventful but for the interruption of my line of vision by a man who’s bald head reflected the setting sun.
On seeing him, I stopped walking and gaped at the sight before me. To be sure I was not imagining things, using my eyes, I traced the position of the sun and followed it down to its reflection on his head.
My forays would have gone unnoticed by the dear man if only my traitorous eyes did not decide to on their own check out his profile, conclude he was quite young then again look at him as if to ask what the secret of his shiny bald spot was.
I believe by some stroke of unfortunate luck, he heard the unasked question because he changed his direction and made to come to me.
I did not stand to see what he had in mind.
I “stoned” my face, looked in the other direction and scurried away as fast as my little feet would carry me!


(reward for hard work!)



Where are they now?


Do you remember the creature?
Wise and solemn, he often outwitted the boastful adversary
Slow and steady, he extolled patience
On darker days he was foolish and greedy, ending up with a broken back.

How about this one?
With speed and wit the accomplished feats
He followed the captives to a foreign land
With ears so long, he wormed his way
To their hearts, tradition and immortality till now.

I refused to believe the trickster is gone
Once in time he gave us stories
Hailing from West Africa he outsmarted his father
A being of skill, his web connects us all.


Thanks to the death of the tales by moonlight, fun educative programs on local TV stations and their relations, hopefully, most of us will know this creature as

A Tortoise.
Member of the family Testudinidae a family of land-dwelling reptiles in the order Testudines.
They are usually daytime creatures (diurnal) with tendencies to participate in twilight affairs (I did not just think of glow in the light vampires).
Tortoises generally have lifespans comparable with those of human beings, and some individuals are known to have lived longer than 150 years
(Grand Master Oogway (also known as Master Oogway or more simply Oogway) was an elderly tortoise and the previous senior master of the Jade Palace. He is credited as the founder of the Valley of Peace, the creator of Kung Fu, and the developer of the Dragon Warrior legend).

This next one on the other hand might be a little hard to follow.

As his close relation seems to have stolen his thunder.

Hares and rabbits (Leporidae) together form a group of Lagomorphs that includes about 50 species of hares, jackrabbits, cottontails and rabbits.
While huge differences exist between the two, hares and rabbits have short bushy tails, long hind legs, long ears and share similar position in folkloreStories of the hare started out as lessons to African children on the values of humility and wisdom. Overtime, as the stories made their way across the boarders of Africa, more of the responsibly was given to the rabbit.
In time, the hare was hardly mentioned.

Arachnophobia or arachnephobia is the fear of spiders and other arachnids.

Given Name: Kweku Anansi
Father: Nyame, (sky god)
Mother: Asase Ya (fertility/ earth goddess)
Gender: Male
Date of Birth: Unknown (around the time when animals and humans spoke to each other).
Day of Birth: Wednesday
Height: Little. Weight: Light.
Address (es): Kumasi, Ghana / Kingston and the counties of Jamaica and other Caribbean territories / The Sea Islands and South Carolina (Gullah), USA / the island of Haiti / Paramaribo and other districts within Suriname, South America / Garifuna Communities, Belize, Central America.
Country of Origin: Ashanti, Ghana
M.O. (Modus Operandi): Trickery; Quick-change-artist; Uses his brains; Hustler; Outsmarts persons larger than himself; Known to travel with immigrants; Often gets in trouble for a misdemeanor.
Main Enemy: Osebo the Leopard, A.K.A: "Bre'r Tiger", "Bra Tiger", "Bro Tiger", Tiger.
Spiders are air breathing, eight-legged predatory arachnids with a body consisting of a fused head and thorax and a rounded abdomen. They are arthropods with fangs that inject venom. They are the largest order of arachnids and rank seventh in total species diversity among all other groups of organisms.
Spiders are found worldwide on every continent except for Antarctica, and have become established in nearly every habitat with the exception of air and sea colonization.

It is considered bad luck to kill a spider



Happy birthday Izy!